


we're just a bunch of wise guys

by hot_damn_louis



Category: GoodFellas (1990), Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel (Supernatural), Big Gay Mobsters, Goodfellas au, Hidden Relationship, Holy shit thats a tag i love this stupid fandom, M/M, Mobster Dean Winchester, Mobsters, Secret Relationship, Slow Build, queer slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29026119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hot_damn_louis/pseuds/hot_damn_louis
Summary: For Dean Winchester, the mob was his family.The men were like gods to Dean, doing whatever they pleased whenever they pleased. In the face of the mobsters, all of Dean’s needs to be perfect for his father went out the window. He preferred the company of Tony and Paulie and Jimmy, and the other Peter’s and Paul’s that were always hanging around the corner store. They were the sort of role models that Dean wanted to have.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first Dean/Cas fic, and I have not watched all of Supernatural yet, but I feel like I understand the characters and how they work into this sort of narrative. 
> 
> This is heavily inspired by the fact that I've watched the movie Goodfellas at least three times this past month, and have re-read the original book it's inspired by recently. I feel like there are not enough queer mobster stories, and Dean is so obviously meant to be a mobster. Look at Michael!Dean. If you have not seen Goodfellas, I recommend watching it! (Although CW for violence). Ray Liotta is so hot in that movie. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Let me know what you think!

For Dean Winchester, the mob was his family. 

Growing up it was just him, Sam, and his father. He barely remembered his mother, and he mostly remembered the photos that he had seen of her. He had only one concrete memory of her singing along to Frank Sinatra on the radio, swinging baby Sam in her arms while dinner cooked on the stove. She was the epitome of beauty in his eyes, especially in the few photos his dad had kept in an album under his bed. She had blonde hair that was perfectly shiny, and a snubbed up nose that she passed down to Sam. She was beautiful until the hair salon she worked at went up in flames, burning her alive. 

His dad was a gruff man, always angry about something. When Dean got bad grades he got the belt, and when Sammy got good grades he got the belt. If anything happened in their tiny apartment, Dean got the belt. It was what living under his abusive father was like; there was not a day that passed when Dean wasn’t afraid for his life because of his father. 

At the age of 13 he took a job down at the corner store where all the mobsters would hang out. He would watch their cars roll in, Nat King Cole playing on the radio and men in impeccable suits getting out with cigars permanently stuck between their teeth. The men were like gods to Dean, doing whatever they pleased whenever they pleased. In the face of the mobsters, all of Dean’s needs to be perfect for his father went out the window. He preferred the company of Tony and Paulie and Jimmy, and the other Peter’s and Paul’s that were always hanging around the corner store. They were the sort of role models that Dean wanted to have. 

His jobs escalated over time. It started with parking cars and doing small errands, but it built up to so much more. By 16 he was doing hits for all the top men, and by 21 he was known as one of the best hitmen in New York. 

Dean was the kind of guy everyone was afraid of. He was respected because he was a scary bastard. He was the kind of guy who made every man hold their breath and every woman swoon when he walked in the room. The name Winchester was uttered and people blanched. If he was brought in on a job, people knew it was serious. There was a reason why people called him the best in the business. He was under the protection of Crowley, which meant that no one could touch him. In the terms of mobsters in New York, Crowley was one tough bastard, and he made sure to have the toughest bastards underneath him. Between the two of them, they were a terrifying pair. 

When his father died under suspicious circumstances, Dean disappeared for a few weeks only to come back with 100 thousand dollars in cold hard cash, and no one blinked an eye. No one dared question him about it. He almost seemed happier because of it, especially since Bobby had been acting like his father since he had started working at the corner store years before. 

He was an enforcer. He was the kind of man you could depend on to take care of thighs, and he made it his job to take care of everyone. He was in everyone’s pockets, even Bobby’s. He knew everyone’s secrets because he had cleaned up after everyone’s messes. If you wronged him, or even mentioned hurting his brother or Bobby— his family— he was lethal. 

***

Dean walked into the lounge with all of his usual confidence, tugging at the end of his perfectly pressed cuffs as he smiled. He noticed the way some of the men shifted uncomfortably, sitting up straighter at the sight of him. THat made him stand up a little taller and smile a little harder. These men fueled his arrogance in the best way. His entire posture was built on confidence; Dean was confident he could kick your ass, both physically and in poker, and he showed it. 

He glanced over and saw Crowley already sitting at the head of a table in the corner. He was always the first at a function and the last to leave, purely to ensure his reign over those under him. He had a particular affinity for not using phones; it bothered the shit out of Dean that he couldn’t ring him up to confirm jobs were finished. Crowley had his communication spread out across the ranks, with no single thing centralized. It was why he would never get pinched, because he was one smart bastard who knew how to keep everything organized. 

Dean walked up to the bar and ordered a scotch, neat, sliding a $50 bill to the waiter discreetly. He took his scotch and made the rounds, stopping to chat with Gabriel and Benny, who were looming next to a poker game. 

The two of them were right bastards, but they were his associates. Gabriel was a loose cannon; he was known to act irrationally and shoot before he thought about it, with a hot temper and a penchant for teasing those he was whacking. He liked to steal like the rest of them, but he really loved the thrill of a good hit. No one trusted him enough because he liked it too much. He was always stuck with other details. Benny was a reliable guy, more fond of stealing than anything else. He had connections at the airport, which was the easiest way to make a couple bucks. When they got bored or low on cash, Benny would plan for them to steal from the airport. It was a pastime of his. 

“Benny, Gabe,” Dean said, greeting them both with a half hug and a kiss on the cheek, winking at the girl at Benny’s side. This was the third or fourth time he had seen Benny with her tucked on his side like a blushing bride. 

“Dean! What the fuck is up?” Gabe asked, clapping him on the shoulder. “Listen, I got a job for you…” 

That was always how it started for Dean. He would hear about a job from Crowley or Benny or Gabriel, and he would get roped in as the muscle. He didn’t mind much, since he didn’t have a lot of his own side businesses going on. He would much rather rough up some guy when they were stealing semi’s from the airport or whacking some squeal then try and organize any of this himself. He saw how guys got paranoid or forgot to give Crowley a cut and got themselves whacked out of their own stupidity. He would rather be intimidating and charming than the brains of any of their operations. 

“Oh, and I need you to go on a date with me,” Gabe said, slapping Dean’s chest with his hand. 

“Wait, what?” Dean asked, actually concentrating on what Gabriel was trying to get at. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes, gripping Dean’s shoulder firmly. “I wanna go out with this girl Anna, but she won’t go out with me alone. She says she doesn’t like ‘our people’, whatever that means. She says she’ll go if she can take her brother along, but I can’t find another girl to double. Can you go as friends, for me? A favor?” Gabriel explained, his eyebrows raising. 

“When?” Dean asked, glancing around the room in the hopes that someone more interesting than Gabriel had shown up in the past few minutes. 

“This Saturday. 8 o’clock,” Gabriel said, giving Dean a look. He kept raising his eyebrows over and over, as if that was somehow going to entice Dean into this scenario. 

Dean conceded, knowing that Gabriel was going to needle him until he agreed. He was a persistent bastard. “Fine. But you owe me, and I will cash this one in,” Dean said, pointing at Gabriel, poking his chest gently. 

“Fuck yes, buddy,” Gabriel said, slapping his back hard. “I’ll replenish our drinks,” he added, snagging Dean’s empty glass and heading back towards the bar. 

Benny stepped closer to Dean, looking vaguely uncomfortable and hot in his finely pressed suit. “You didn’t have to,” Benny said, his arm sliding away from his girl. He bumped shoulders with Dean, following his gaze out onto the sea of people. “I’m sure that Gabe can grab shout ‘Paul’ and have any of the men agreeing to this half-date thing,” Benny added, downing the rest of his drink. 

“I don’t mind,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I’ll take the favor and screw him over harder later.”

Benny shrugged, as if giving up any idea of changing Dean’s mind. He slipped his arm back around his girl, whispering something into her ear. A moment later he was waving Dean off, leading her out of the lounge. He had his own built in excuse for turning down this weird date because he had a girl of his own to take out and spoil. He probably had the watch tower of the airport bribed so he could sneak her up there during lulls in flights. He was not the kind of guy to agree to go to dinner for a favor. 

“Where the fuck did Benny go?” Gabriel asked, pressing a drink into Dean’s hands. “And where’s Crowley’s new bitch boy? I hate having to get my own drinks,” Gabriel added, glancing around the room and cursing under his breath. 

“Calm down,” Dean said, shaking his head. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Gabriel said, scowling. “I thought Crowley had some twerp under his thumb again, a new hire at the corner store. Maybe I was wrong.”

“You sure you need another drink?” Dean asked, glancing at the way that Gabriel’s neck was flushed and his collar a little sweaty. He could tell he was drunk, but Gabriel was one sick bastard when he got angry, so it wasn’t Dean’s place to mention anything to him. He hated when Gabriel got drunk and made rash decisions, but he wasn’t going to push it any further. He would rather sit in the corner and play poker than have to hear Gabriel bitching about some guy or another who had looked at him funny last time they were hanging out at the tiki bar. 

“I gotta talk to Bobby about some guns,” Dean said, excusing himself from Gabriel quickly. He wove his way through the crowd, pleased when some of the lower level guys shied away from him. He wasn’t Italian, not like Crowley was, so he would never be a made man, an untouchable. With his reputation, he was practically as scary as any of the made men. Those around him knew he wouldn’t hesitate to waste them if they tried to cross him. 

He liked having the power and being the protector. It was his job to fuck with people, and he liked it. He liked that no one would dare fuck with him in return. 

***

Dean pulled up to the restaurant that Gabriel told him to meet at ten minutes early. He got out and lit up a cigarette, leaning against the hood of his car while he smoked. He had started smoking because everyone at the corner store did it, but he mostly did it now because it took the edge off of his nerves. Not that he would be nervous about this stupid date situation, just that he hated dealing with people who weren’t in the know. There wasn’t a lot to talk about that wasn’t shallow and vapid with people who didn’t know what your job was, or the fact that you had to throw away an entire suit because you got too messy doing a hit. There was so little to talk about. 

He saw Gabriel pull up in his shiny red car, a monstrosity that Dean almost shook his head at. He was always the showman, looking sleazy as ever in his clean and precise yet obnoxious suit. He had his arm slung over some waify redhead who looked almost angry to be there in a dress that was more suitable for his grandmother than his date. Already Dean was sort of annoyed with the situation because despite this Anna girl being hot in her own way, she was likely going to be annoying. None of the girls who went with Gabriel were normal by any account. 

It was the man that got out of the backseat of the car that had Dean dropping his cigarette in surprise. 

He had dark hair and a dark brow, but eyes Dean could tell were light, even from far away. He had on a smart trench coat over a dark black suit, his tie slightly loose as if he tugged at it nervously. His hair was slicked back, but a tuft of it was sticking up at the base of his neck, where it had likely gotten mussed. He had such a stern and serious look on his face that Dean almost wondered if he had accidentally agreed to attending a funeral. 

“Gabe!” Dean called, striding towards their small group. He smiled wide at Anna and her brother, hoping that his own charm would be enough to fuel the conversation of the night. 

“Dean!” Gabriel greeted, leaving Anna to give him a half hug. He gestured towards her, quietly saying her name. He gestured towards the man, calling him Castiel. 

“Interesting name,” Dean said, shaking his hand politely. 

“We have very religious parents,” Castiel said matter of factly, looking completely and entirely serious. While his words came off as an attempt at dry humor, it fell entirely flat. If he was going to take himself this seriously the whole time, Dean wasn’t quite sure how they were going to make it through the night. 

“Sounds like a fun dynamic growing up,” Dean said, falling into step with Castiel as they walked towards the restaurant. He glanced at where Gabriel had pulled Anna back under his arm, whispering something into her ear and being generally smarmy. 

“I have quite a few siblings. It was very fun,” Castiel said, completely serious again. 

Dean merely blinked as he reached forward to hold open the door, watching him pass through the doorway. Castiel’s shockingly blue eyes looked at him, and for a split second it was like he was peering into his soul. He wanted to look away, do anything, but he felt the air sucked out of his lungs. He did not startle easily, and he certainly did not get affected by smart looking men in ill fitting suits. He tried to brush off the buzzing in his chest as absolutely nothing. 

They sat in a big booth on the far wall of the restaurant, Gabriel immediately saddling up to Anna on one side, his hand clearly on her thigh underneath the table. He was whispering something in her ear and being otherwise smarmy, which was a usual aspect of his personality. Dean wanted to reach over and smack him, get him to open the conversation wider, if only to save himself from doing something stupid in front of this new gorgeous man. 

Dean tapped his lighter on the table, glancing around the restaurant nervously. It was not one of their usual haunts, since Gabriel let this Anna chick pick the place. It was somewhere fancy, but not too fancy, and Dean could feel himself standing out slightly with his nice (stolen) watch and his clean cut suit. He was dressed to the nines, as he always was, but it was a bit too much for the atmosphere. 

“Could you stop that?” Castiel asked, laying his hand down on top of Dean’s where he was tapping his lighter. His hands were smoother than Dean anticipated, his eyebrows raised in slight question. He seemed sort of annoyed at the entire situation, as if he was reflecting part of Dean’s feelings. 

“What do you do for work?” Dean asked, attempting to be polite considering the silence that had fell between them. He hated small talk, and he hated having to make up something to talk about because Gabriel had roped him into some sort of awkward scenario. He was doing that far too frequently for Dean’s personal liking. One of these days he’d have to say no to Gabriel, only to escape a scenario like this. The looming favor was the only thing keeping Dean at the table instead of bailing. 

“I’m an accountant,” Castiel said quietly, looking down at his hands. He rubbed at a spot where ink had settled into his skin, staining a smudge of it dark blue. “I work for stock brokers,” he added, as if that sort of information was relevant at all. 

Dean did not want to put any more effort into the conversation than he already was. He could see Gabriel making his moves quickly with Anna, and he knew he’d have to give this Castiel guy a ride home at the end of the night, if only to ensure that Gabriel and Anna got the alone time he was looking for. He was an asshole for having Dean chaperone a hookup. 

“Tell me more,” Dean said, even though he found the accounting aspect extremely boring. 

Those three words seemed to unleash a string of words from Castiel’s mouth as he discussed the numbers he had to crunch, how he needed to replace the calculator machine he used, and having to pick up the man who worked next to him’s slack. He started to look into Dean’s eyes the more he talked, warming up to him quickly. His eyes were a piercing blue, and Dean couldn’t find it in his heart to look away. 

Even as foreign concepts streamed from his lips, speaking of things that Dean could merely say “huh” to, Dean found himself wanting to hear more. He wanted to see the way his plush lips formed words, or the way his fingers and hands moved in front of him as he spoke. There was an elegance to him, one that Dean was perfectly fine with observing. 

“Interesting,” Dean commented, when there was a lull in his discussion. 

“And what do you do for work?” Castiel asked, looking actually interested in whatever Dean had to say. 

_ Murdering people _ , Dean thought abysmally. “Mechanic,” he said, giving the half truth. He did own a garage, but it was more for his personal indulgence with cars than his actual work. It was also an easy front for many of their deals; having someone pull in to have their oil changed made slipping them goods far easier than other cons. 

Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand where it was sitting on top of the table. “These hands don’t seem like a mechanics,” he said, turning Dean’s hand over, fingers running along his palm. He wanted Castiel to run his hands along him again, to feel the heat of his fingers on him again. 

“I own the garage,” Dean corrected, looking into Castiel’s eyes. 

He couldn’t help but think how this strange outing sort of turned into a double date. Not that dating a man was acceptable; he knew the sort of looks he would get if he were walking hand in hand with Castiel anywhere in town, but he knew that the other wise guys wouldn’t say anything out of fear alone.

“Business owner,” Castiel commented, letting Dean’s hand drop. 

“Had to do something with my life,” Dean said, smoothing a hand over his hair. He wanted to say more, but he felt a kick under the table. He glanced over at Gabriel, who had apparently already grown bored of assaulting poor Anna. 

“Aren’t you meeting with Bobby tonight?” Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

That was sort of half true. Dean had asked Bobby if he could swing buy and pick up some parts for one of the cars at his shop. They were going to discuss the next scam they were likely going to run, whether it was double charging some of the rich folks who were stupid enough to leave their cars in Dean’s trust, or buying out the restaurant next door to Dean’s place so they could rack up charges on the credit. They had no real set meeting time, not when Dean would randomly stop by Bobby’s sometime this weekend anyhow. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Dean said, frowning a bit. He could already sort of tell what sort of mischief that Gabriel was trying to get into. If he could give Dean a reason to leave, taking Castiel with him, he would finally get his alone time with Anna. Although Dean wasn’t really sure how productive that would be, considering she seemed to be sort of shy and Castiel had mentioned the two of them having religious parents. 

“I thought you had plans to meet Bobby at ten,” Gabriel said, giving Dean a look. So he was trying to get her alone. 

“Right, Gabe. Thanks for reminding me,” Dean said, smiling weakly at him. 

The waiter came over to take their orders then, his eyebrows raising when Gabriel ordered the most expensive wine on the menu, the one that only came by the bottle. He stayed polite, keeping his voice low and hushed as he turned and walked away with their orders. 

Dean was in for a long night. 

***

When his sister had suggested going with him on her date with that smarmy Gabriel character, Cas imagined having to make small talk with a pretty girl who he would never be interested in. No matter how frequently Anna tried, or anyone for that matter, he was not going to be interested in women. She did this semi frequently; when Anna had a date with whatever character she was currently going with, she would drag Cas along with the hopes that there would be a young girl who caught his eye. 

He was nearly 26. He knew he was queer. 

This date seemed to be an even worse proposition than her usual men. She picked whatever meathead she met lingering outside of the university and had them drive her around in their fancy cars, talking about agricultural science and parties on campus. She would blush and brush her hair behind her ear, playing coy until they would do something ridiculous like buy her a gift. Then she would dump them quicker than they could say “wait”. She could be very conniving when she wanted to be. 

This man, Gabriel, was clearly into shady business. Whether it was the impeccable suit or the way he had three heavy gold rings on his fingers, he was clearly not the collegiate type. He had pulled up outside of their house in a 55’ Chevy Bel Air, the soft top folded back so that they could ride in the open air. When Anna had walked out of the house, he had reached down and grabbed her hand, lifting it to kiss. He then pulled her in for a hug, dropping all sorts of formal courting activities in favor for trying to kiss at her neck. It had taken Cas clearing his throat for him to drop her and actually introduce himself. 

Although, the date did perk up when Gabriel mentioned that he had gotten one of his buddies to come along on their date instead of a girl. Cas could make small talk with a guy. 

When they arrived, the man who called Gabriel’s name was possibly the hottest man that Cas had ever seen in his life. 

He was leaning against his own car, a dark suit tailored perfectly for his body. He had a cigarette dangling from his fingers, his hair slicked back impeccably, and his body language relaxed, even as he perked up at the sight of his friend. When his eyes slid over and made eye contact with Cas, the cigarette dropped from his fingers, landing in the gravel below. He barely made an effort to snub it out with his wingtips, probably concerned that the cigarette would ruin his good shoes. 

He looked expensive, even more so than Gabriel. He didn’t have rings on his fingers, but he had a sharpness to his collar and a look in his eyes that read as dangerous.  _ Dangerous for my heart _ Cas thought hopelessly, trying to ignore the skip in his heartbeat as he approached. 

When they had sat down to dinner, he let Cas talk about accounting, and then he said he was a  _ mechanic _ . That was one thing Cas knew he was not; the thought of him in a tank top covered in grease was one he would not forget, but he was confident that this man was not a mechanic. Nor a businessman, as he so corrected. He held himself like a predator, eyes sweeping the room and body ready to move, even as he relaxed into the booth. He was far overdressed for the restaurant, but he didn’t appear to be uncomfortable because of it. 

He had business to do after dinner, or so Gabriel said. This was merely a ploy to get Anna alone, although Cas wasn’t quite sure what good would come of that. It seemed as if Anna might have flown too close to the sun with this particular man, considering that he was not the car salesman that he had originally claimed to be. He could not fault Anna for not seeing her mistake; Icarus had not noticed his wings were melting until it was too late. 

The dinner was pleasant enough. The man next to him, Dean, seemed to be distracted. Even so, he was unbearably attractive. When Cas grabbed his hand and Dean had not pulled away, he was curious to who he was as a person. Was he like Cas, a homo? Was he as queer as Cas hoped he would be? The last person Cas had even tried to risk it with was their next door neighbor, who moved away for college and married a woman three months after leaving. 

Gabriel seemed intent on going for a drive as soon as they finished dinner, the expensive wine he bought clearly loosening inhibitions. Anna ordered coffee, shooting Cas a look. He wasn’t quite sure what that particular look was supposed to mean, but he figured that it was a distinct look to shut up and go with whatever was happening. It was a look that meant she was going out with Gabriel, and to make an excuse to Michael when he returned home alone. If Michael was even home or awake enough to care. 

Conversation did not flow easily between him and Dean after they ordered food. They seemed to stop and start, not finding a common place to jump off of. Cas did not know nearly enough about cars or music, and Dean did not know enough about current events or higher education. When Dean had called for the check, it was sort of a relief for Cas. He was tortured by a lack of conversation and Dean’s impossibly good looks. 

The next weekend, when Anna had mentioned going out with Gabriel and Dean again, Cas agreed. He had not thought much about it except for the fact that Anna had promised to deep clean the bathroom if he had agreed to go again. He would rather not have to scrub the tiles on his hands and knees, so he agreed quickly. 

They had entered the restaurant, waiting for Dean inside, but he never came. Not even after they had ordered coffee. 

“I’m sure he had business to take care of,” Gabriel said, seeming completely unchanged by the fact that Cas was currently ruining his date with Anna. While Gabriel seemed totally undisturbed, Anna seemed slightly ticked off at the fact that she could not slag Cas off on another person. 

“I’m sorry to ruin your date,” Cas said, fiddling with the end of his cuffs.

“Nonsense,” Anna said, swatting at his arm. Even then, he could tell that her efforts were halfhearted. 

“I was planning on stopping by the Roadhouse before taking Anna home, and Dean might be there,” Gabriel said, shrugging as he laid down a couple bills for their dinner. “My plan is to tease him about not showing up.”

“It’s fine. We weren’t on a date,” Cas said, shrugging. He only felt betrayed by his own heart for caring so much about the attractive man who had half ignored him the last time they had seen each other. 

Even so, they had piled back into Gabriel’s car, leaving Cas in the backseat. He could see where Gabriel’s hand had slid onto his sister’s thigh, pulling her close to him across the bench seat. He tried to ignore the fact that this man was defiling his sister in the front seat while driving to some bodega to do “business”. Sometimes these mobsters— at least that’s what Cas figured them to be— were quite obvious. 

They pulled up outside of the Roadhouse, and outside in front with a cigarette in his mouth was Dean. He looked as attractive as the first night Cas saw him, if not even better considering he was dressed down slightly. He had short sleeves on, his muscular arms straining against the sleeve of the shirt. His hair was a little looser than before, and his eyes were bright with laughter as he bumped shoulders with the guy next to him. He was clearly not doing business of any kind, which stung Cas hard. 

Gabriel got out of the car, laughing and shouting at Dean. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” Dean called back, flicking his cigarette to the ground. 

“A date you’re supposed to be on,” Gabriel said, looking back at the car. Cas got out and stood by the door, his sister doing the same. He didn’t say anything, preferring to stare at Dean instead. 

When they caught eyes, it was as if there was no one else around. Cas could not look away, not on his life, and he had a similar notion that Dean felt the same. His face went slack, likely out of embarrassment and shock at the fact that Gabriel would tout them around town purely to prove a point. Gabriel seemed like a vindictive, trickster of a man. Bringing Dean and Cas together seemed like something he would do. 

“You stood us up,” Cas said plainly, his voice leaping from him before he could even think about it.

“Then I owe you,” Dean said, as if it was merely that simple to extend a favor. 

“Great! It’s all settled. I’m going to pick up some things inside,” Gabriel said, winking at Dean before disappearing inside. 

Rather than continue to stare at Dean, their mile long stare still continuing, Cas ducked back into the car. He knew better than to fall for a straight man. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean honestly thought he’d probably never see Castiel again after their strange date with Gabriel and Anna. He was sort of betting on it, considering the way that he felt was definitely not one he would traditionally associate with a man. He was used to charming girls when he saw fit, and the heat of lust that accompanied a small waist and beautiful hair. He was so used to looking at a man and seeing a friend or someone to con that he didn’t realize he could feel any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I don't have any set updating days yet, so I'll sort of keep posting based on when I finish a chapter. I try to post roughly once a week, if not a little sooner than that, so keep your eyes peeled. 
> 
> The story is still taking shape in my brain. I'm not sure what the major conflict will be yet, but I have a few events and a few scenes that I really want to happen, so that's what I'm focusing on currently. I have one particular scene which ~might~ be the conflict, but I'm working out the timeline. 
> 
> I haven't figured out how many chapters, but based on where I'm at now, maybe 8. We'll see. 
> 
> Otherwise, thank you for reading! Lemme know what y'all thinK!

Dean honestly thought he’d probably never see Castiel again after their strange date with Gabriel and Anna. He was sort of betting on it, considering the way that he felt was definitely not one he would traditionally associate with a man. He was used to charming girls when he saw fit, and the heat of lust that accompanied a small waist and beautiful hair. He was so used to looking at a man and seeing a friend or someone to con that he didn’t realize he could feel any other way. 

When Gabriel came by after his date, with Anna and Castiel in tow, Dean could feel the guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach. He was well aware he had another outstanding date with them, and he was ducking it to avoid the attraction he felt when he saw Castiel in that smart trench coat and his tie askew. 

Castiel getting out of the car was something that Dean was not expecting. He couldn’t help but to stare at him, to try and raise the bets even higher. He didn’t really know why he said he owed Castiel anything, because he really didn’t. But he would make good on his offer. Him making good on his offer had everything to do with respecting Gabriel, Anna, and Castiel. It had nothing to do with the piercing blue eyes and the way Dean wanted to strip that jacket off of him. 

He was sitting in the garage with Benny, talking about robbing the airport, when Gabriel came in, slamming the door. “Oh, Dean, you really screwed the pooch on this one,” Gabriel said, sitting down heavily in one of the chairs. He leaned back and laughed, which meant that he had something totally and completely maniacal planned. 

“Gabe, what did you do now,” Dean growled, leaning forward. He glanced at Benny, expecting him to say something. He merely held his hands up in surrender.

“You stood up Anna and Cas, and promised a favor, so I merely informed him of where to cash that favor,” Gabriel said, looking particularly cocky. 

Not that Dean was opposed to the concept of favors. His particular business and lifestyle ran on favors and trust, even if he did not have any for those outside of his closest friends. He knew that he would get a favor from Gabriel eventually, and perhaps have to cash in a few more favors depending on who he owed and what for. The thought of Castiel, walking into his garage to redeem a favor, was far too much for Dean to think about. 

“And he’s coming here?” Dean asked, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible about this. “To my garage?”

“Said it was something about his car breaking down,” Gabriel said, holding up his hands as if he could not control what was happening. He nudged knees against Benny’s in some sort of knowing gesture. Between that and his smarmy look, it did not bode well. 

“You absolute fucker,” Dean said, grabbing out a new cigarette to light. He could feel the nerves building in his belly, nerves that he forgot he even had. He hadn’t felt nervous since the last time he whacked someone Crowley did not necessarily approve of. He had to stand in Crowley’s office and stare at him, hoping that he would see the judgement call that Dean had made and the fact that the man had betrayed their trust. He got nervous when his life was on the line, not when a guy in a trenchcoat decided to come near him. 

“I’ve heard a lot about this guy,” Benny said, as if that was somehow supposed to remedy the situation. He did not know much because Dean was attempting to pretend like there was nothing much to know. He was fairly good at keeping things to himself, but love interests tended to be things he could not hold tight to his chest. He was transparent when he was interested in someone. That was not a good thing in his line of work, not when that could be used as blackmail or information against him. 

“I’ve heard a lot about a lot of guys,” Dean said in return. He looked at Benny with a pointed look, knowing his history. Their history. Not that Gabriel really knew any of it; he knew that they had been close and grew up near each other, joining in around the same time. He didn’t know about the month after Dean had opened the garage, the quick fucks in his office or the way they would stumble back to Benny’s place after a job. It was easy enough, but there was something missing in it for the both of them. They were close friends, but they knew risking it was never going to be worth it for them. 

Benny had been a serial dater ever since. Every guy and girl he dated came in under wraps and left under wraps, no one knowing much about them outside of a name or maybe whatever they had left behind at Benny’s apartment after a few nights of bliss. He had a small box of treasures, anything from a sock or a piece of jewelry to a nightie or pair of pants. Benny had cooled down more recently, but he was the kind of guy to watch out for. The more successful version of Gabriel. 

“I feel like you two are doing that thing again,” Gabriel said, pointing at the two of them. “Leaving me out of your jokes like you always do.”

“Not a joke, and nothing to know,” Benny said, mugging at Gabriel. He gave him a look of challenge, knowing that there was no way Gabriel was going to take him up on it. He was small enough that Benny could crush him in one arm and dig his grave with the other. 

“Alright, alright. But if you take up Cas on this favor, I get into Anna’s pants. So I’d like you very much to do this,” Gabriel said, smirking with his stupid face. 

“I was already going to do it, ass,” Dean said, pulling a box of cigarettes out of his pocket. “When’s he coming?” 

Gabriel checked his watch, looking for the time. “Hm. Now?”

Fuck. Dean hated when things were sprung on him like this. He was far more into planning, even if his plans were shitty and thrown together. Cas coming now was not something that he was prepared for, and he certainly did not have the mechanics around to deal with whatever car problem Cas was having. Dean knew about cars, but he certainly did not know enough to make a diagnostic report for his men in the morning. 

“It’s late,” Dean said, glancing at the time. It was already half past ten, which meant that Cas would need a ride home, if he actually needed repairs on his car. Gabriel was a little shit for telling him now was a good time. 

“You act as if we’re all princesses, needing to get to bed by a certain time,” Gabriel said, standing. He smoothed one hand down his jacket and one over his hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me boys, I’ve got a certain redhead to charm.” With that, he was gone. 

Benny laughed at Dean, whatever expression was currently on his face. “I haven’t seen you so nervous since Lisa dumped your ass for Paulie Campanietti after you stole from her parents,” Benny said, reaching over to slap Dean’s knee. 

“That was a misunderstanding,” Dean corrected, pointing at Benny. “I didn’t know that her parents owned the place when I robbed it.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Benny said, standing. He twisted as if to stretch, glancing around the garage. “Good luck with loverboy. I’ll see you on Saturday for some on flight beverages,” Benny said, laughing at his own joke. That was their little keyword for post-airport stealing celebrations. They’d pick up some semi leaving the airport and drive it back home, having drinks in the back of Benny’s warehouse until the sun rose. It was a past time at this point. 

“Fuck you,” Dean said, only halfheartedly. He watched Benny dip out the front of the garage. 

Only moments later a car pulled up into the front of the garage, sputtering as it was stopped just inside. The engine turning off sounded bad, and while Dean couldn’t identify what it was by sound alone, he knew that the engine had some issues. This favor he owed Cas suddenly seemed like a lot more than he had originally bargained for. 

“Hey,” Dean called out, standing. He watched as Cas got out of the car, trench coat on and face almost stormy looking. He seemed annoyed, ticked off almost, with tension filling his shoulders. 

“I hate driving,” Cas said, his voice low and growly. 

“That’s because you drive this piece of shit,” Dean said, walking over to the car. When he slapped the hood, he could almost feel the car groaning underneath his hand. 

“It’s a respectable car,” Cas argued, his lips downturned. 

Dean walked around it, almost laughing at it. “It’s a Studebaker Lark,” Dean said, as if that was explanation enough for the state of the car. At the lack of response from Cas, he stopped in his tracks, hand on the back end. “There’s a reason why people call these Stupid-baker’s. You know that, right?”

“No, I did not know that upon purchasing the car. I found it to be a practical deal, all things considering,” Cas said, his arms tense at his sides. 

“This is not a car. I drive a 57’ Ford Thunderbird. That’s a car to drive,” Dean said, gesturing towards where his sleek black car sat in the corner. He glanced over at Cas, watching his reaction to the car. Instead of the usual appreciative glance, his slight scowl was still present. 

“I do not care about cars, I simply need one to drive to work,” Cas said. He stared at Dean in a way that made his heart flip over, the eye contact something Dean barely got in his line of work or from a lover in the past. He was not the sort of guy who made a lot of eye contact, not when many of the people he met outside of his own crew ended up dead at his hands. 

“Alright, I can take a look now but my guys won’t be here until morning,” Dean said, pressing his lips together. He stripped off his suit jacket, handing over to Cas wordlessly. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, cracking his neck side to side as he reached under to pop the hood up. The v8 engine underneath the hood was a beauty. It was a crime it was in such an ugly car. 

“How many miles?” Dean asked, trying to squint at the engine in the low lighting. 

“I don’t know. Thirty thousand?” Cas said, rubbing the back of his neck. He rounded to peek inside the door, checking the odometer. “Thirty one thousand,” he reported. 

“Ah, that’s your problem. These Studebaker’s have some badass engines, but they need a hefty tuneup right at 30,000. My guys can do it in the morning,” Dean said, his voice muffled as he looked into the engine. He pulled out the dipstick and wiped it clean on a rag, inserting it back to check the oil level. It was low, a little lower than Dean would have expected. “Probably needs some oil to fire correctly,” Dean added, replacing the dipstick and straightening. He glanced at Cas, the scowl back on his face. 

“You can’t finish it tonight?” Cas asked, sounding far too displeased at this news. 

“Not a whole check up and potential overhaul. Plus, it’s far too late and I wouldn’t be done for hours. Lemme take you home,” Dean said, shutting the hood. He wiped his hands on a rag, looking at Cas expectantly. 

“Fine,” Cas said, striding over to the Thunderbird without another word. He was still holding Dean’s jacket in his hands, which he seemed to notice once he had reached the other car. 

“I’m grabbing something for work, I’ll be right back,” Dean called out, tossing the rag aside and ducking into his office. He tucked his gun into his waistband, in the back where he hoped that Cas wouldn’t see, considering he had his jacket. He shut the light off and closed up, swinging the keys on one hand. 

He walked out towards his own car, careful to keep Cas out of sight of his gun. He knew the suspicions that people had about him, and while it was true that he was a murderer (in a sense), he was not about to let this guy run off because he felt threatened. The gun was for Dean’s own safety, no one else's. 

“My jacket?” Dean asked, lifting his hand for it. 

Cas wordlessly passed it over the hood of the car, eyes watching as Dean shrugged it back over his shoulders. He stared openly, something that made Dean a little nervous. He seemed observant, and while that would normally be a good characteristic in someone, it was not for Dean. He had far too much to hide for some observant guy to come in and watch him like he was the most interesting thing in the world. 

He got into the car, sliding onto the leather interior and shutting his door firmly. He watched as Cas did the same, his hands folding nervously in his lap once he had secured his seat belt. He glanced at Dean, his stare intense despite its brevity. He seemed to be cataloguing everything about Dean, from the sharpness of his collar to the way his hands gripped the steering wheel. 

“Where to?” Dean asked, starting up the car. He let the rumble of the engine run for a few moments before pulling out of the garage. He stopped the car outside of the garage to shut the big doors, taking a few moments. He could feel where his jacket was pulling up at the back, likely revealing what he was packing. He tried to act casual about it when he slid back into the interior, but under Cas’ watchful gaze, he felt as if he was fully and completely seen. 

“I’ll direct you,” Cas said, instead of giving him an address to follow. 

Dean cautiously pulled out onto the street, following the point of Cas’ finger as he gestured left. He wished he could get Cas to talk, talk open and free like he did before Dean somehow messed it up. Not that there was anything to fix. Or that he cared. 

***

When Gabriel heard about his car acting up, he had almost insisted that Cas use his favor with Dean to get it fixed. The original plan was to take it to the mechanic near his house, the one that Michael loved, but there was no stopping Gabriel once he had caught wind of Cas’ needs. He brought up the favor that Cas was owed, (“Dean’ll do it for  _ free _ and all you have to do is show up and bat those pretty eyes of yours”), there was no other option besides taking his car to Dean’s shop. 

He had seen Gabriel fleeing the place before he pulled up, probably off to go terrorize Anna or gamble at some bar. He had been showing up at odd hours to take her along with him places, and despite the fact that Michael was a traditionalist, he seemed to not care about Anna’s current whereabouts. Maybe he felt like Anna had finally met her match: a man who could meet her rebellious spirit equally who also had money to back it up. 

When he was waiting for Dean, holding his jacket, he saw the gun tucked into the back of his pants. He could see the butt of it when Dean pulled his jacket on, and the way that he shifted when he sat in the car. These were merely simple observations, and he knew he was staring at him, but a normal mechanic owner did not shove a pistol in the back of his trousers before leaving his place of work. 

“Left here,” Cas said quietly, gesturing towards the street. He kept his hands folded neatly in his lap, the image of patience and manners. He was sure to not take up too much space in the cab of the car, not how Dean sprawled and took up far more space than necessary. He was the guest and he was sure to keep himself in full control of his limbs while in the car. 

Dean reminded him a bit of the illustrious Jay Gastby. Not for the whole party-throwing aspect, or even the deep love separated by fate and distance. Rather, it was his quiet personality and the softness around the edges of his person that occurred when he wasn’t putting on a show for others. The man he was in front of Gabriel was far different than the man who had helped him with his car and offered to drive him home. The smiles weren’t as fake, and there was a distinct lack of tension in his shoulders. 

He had turned the radio to a soft hum, an Elvis song playing softly over the radio. He was tapping his hand against the steering wheel to the beat, his eyes expertly scanning the road as he drove. There was something completely different about his posture here; he was completely in control of the car, as if it was a part of his nature. He seemed to enjoy driving, which was far different from Cas’ own experience of being behind the wheel of a car. 

“You like driving,” Cas commented, his eyes watching Dean’s profile carefully. 

Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his lips pulling up into a soft smile. “Sure do,” he said, his hands smoothing over the steering wheel. 

“Why?”

“Huh,” Dean said, his brow pulling down in thought. “Never had to say why before. Because of freedom and control. Nothing more special than flying down the highway at night, only the headlights to light the way,” Dean said, nodding along with his own words. He let out a breath of laughter, glancing at Cas again. “Not a fan of driving?”

Cas tilted his head as he considered his answer. “Not particularly.”

“That’s too bad, “ Dean said, tapping his hands on the steering wheel, head bobbing as the song changed on the radio. He watched Cas make a wordless point of direction, slowing as he turned into a residential neighborhood. He was careful not to go too fast, pausing a beat longer at the stop signs. 

“That one on the left,” Cas said, pointing towards his house. He could see that it was completely dark except for the light in Michael’s bedroom, which meant that he would likely comment on Cas’ late arrival home. As if he had any sort of choice in the matter. 

“Nice place,” Dean said, glancing up at the two story house, mouth pursed in thought. Cas wondered what sorts of thoughts Dean was having about his home. He was likely thinking about how normal it was, or how utterly plain it was. That was Michael’s tastes, but it was also what adhered to looking normal in their neighborhood. He wondered what sort of place Dean had that he was comparing to his own home. 

“I like it,” Cas said, sort of defensively. 

“Don’t act all hurt about it. I like it,” Dean said, his face tighter around the edges, lips firmer. 

Cas got out of the car, shutting the door quietly so as to not disturb his neighbors. Before he lost his courage, he leaned down into the open car window, ducking to look into Dean’s eyes. “You should not feel so pressured to hide your profession from me. I am far too observant for subtle things to go unnoticed, such as the gun in your pants,” Cas said, hand gesturing towards Dean’s body. 

“What—”

“Goodnight, Dean.” Cas backed away from the car, turning and walking up the steps into his own home. He listened for the hum of the car, waiting for it to pull away. Even as he inserted the keys into the lock, he had expected it to roar off into the night. He fumbled the lock open, pushing into the house. It wasn’t until he had secured the door behind him that he heard the rumble of the engine pulling away. 

***

Dean went back to his garage in the morning, intent on meeting a buyer for a few dozen fur coats that Gabriel wanted to push through his business. He couldn’t ever really say no to Gabriel, not when he was in one of his more excitable moods. He had apparently gotten Anna to agree on a date alone, which meant that he called and woke Dean up far earlier than necessary to ensure that he was headed to sell the coats. As if Gabriel was going to really reap any profit from them, considering Dean had planned on waiting out the money until Gabriel forgot about it entirely. 

He smoothed a hand over his hair, annoyed that he didn’t have enough time to do it properly this morning. He could feel where it was slipping out of it’s hold in the back, tufts of it sticking out instead of laying perfectly flat. He felt so unprofessional when his hair was coming undone. So uncomfortable. 

The guy he was meeting, Hector, showed up half past nine to pick up the coats. He slipped Dean two thousand for the six coats and left, racking them into his car. After he left, the majority of Dean’s crew started coming in to work on what was in the garage. They paid no attention to the fur coats that were slipping out of Dean’s office and into the back of Hector’s car, most of them nodding politely at Hector as they started work. 

“Hey, boss?” Ash said, calling out across the garage. “What’s this piece of shit Stupid-baker doing in here?” 

“That’s a special client’s,” Dean said, walking over towards Ash. He tightened his tie as he went, hoping that it would be enough to save face for his otherwise slightly undone appearance. “Get it done for me as soon as you can, yeah? It’s for someone special.”

“Someone special, boss? Got some girl you doing favors for?” Ash asked, hooking his fingers under the hood to lift it up. 

“Something like that,” Dean said, not particularly feeling like explaining himself. His staff didn’t know that much about being a mobster, and they certainly did not know about the hustles and favors that were a big part of being in Dean’s particular line of work. They knew enough to keep their mouths shut and accept the bonus’ that Dean passed down quarterly. They weren’t paid to know Dean’s personal life or the particular business exchanges he made. 

They certainly didn’t know about the whacks, or the fact that Crowley had left a note on top of his desk this morning for a hit in Pennsylvania next weekend. His staff were there to fix cars, not fix him. 

“Alrighty. I’ll have her done by close tonight,” Ash said, flipping a wrench in his hand. He was trustworthy enough to get it done, even if he was sort of a weird kid. 

The phone was ringing in Dean’s office, calling his attention back towards the small room. He sat down heavily in his chair, picking the phone up and holding it to his ear. “Winchester Automotive,” Dean greeted, glancing around his office. He noticed that it needed to be cleaned, properly. He would have to call in someone to do that. 

“Dean?” Sam asked, his voice quiet over the phone. 

“Sammy! What’s up brother?” Dean greeted, relaxing into his chair. 

They had separated early when Dean had gotten into the whole mob business. That was not Sam’s life goals, and Dean wasn’t going to force him to do anything of the sort. Dad was rough enough on both of them that letting Sam live his dreams, moving to California to go to law school, was what he needed. Dean respected that. They had separate wants and needs, and it was certainly easier for the two of them to live their separate lives.

They called once a month. Dean had it scheduled into his calendar on the first of the month at exactly 5pm his time. It was not the first of the month now. 

“Sorry to interrupt you at work, but I wanted to let you know that I’m graduating in a few weeks,” Sam said, his voice tight on his end of the phone. “Can you come out and see?”

“Of course! Who do you think I am? What date?” Dean asked, leaning forward to grab a piece of paper off of his desk to write down the date. He fished up a pen and an old receipt, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he listened hard. 

“May 20th. It’s a Saturday. I wanted to give you plenty of warning so you could come out early, maybe drive out and stay a few days. I want you to meet my girlfriend,” Sam said, sounding quiet. 

“Is anything wrong? You don’t seem that excited about all of this,” Dean said, his brow pulling down, even as he jotted down the date. 

“Don’t say you’re going to come unless you’re actually planning on it, alright? When I graduated before, you didn’t tell me you were blowing it off and it sucked,” Sam said, sounding resigned. 

That had been a total misunderstanding, and partially for Dean’s own safety. He had just had to whack Tommy Cicero a few days before, and leaving town to see his brother graduate would have been a deathwish. There was no way that he could have left without seeming suspicious. He had sent Sam a big thank you gift, an entire encyclopedia set, but apparently that didn’t make up for seeing it in person. 

“Sammy, I promise you that I’ll be there. I can make plans two months ahead, can’t I?” Dean said, grabbing the piece of paper to pin above his desk. He was not going to forget his kid brother, not if he could help it. 

***

Gabriel brought Cas by later that day to pick up his car. He had Anna in the front seat of his stupid Chevy, her hair almost as bright as the paint on the outside. “Hey bastard! I brought Cas over here to pick up his car,” Gabe called out, slapping his hands down on Cas’ shoulders. 

Cas visibly flinched at the contact, his face almost stormy at the presence of Gabriel. It was clear that he didn’t like him, and that he certainly did not like him dating his sister. His hands clenched at his sides as he walked, his eyes sliding up to meet Dean’s. “Hello Dean,” Cas said politely, standing firmly in his feet. 

“Cas,” Dean said, dipping his chin in greeting. “Gabe, get your scoundrel ass out of my garage. You still owe me for the new tires,” Dean said, shaking his head at the man. 

“I don’t owe you anymore than you owe me,” Gabriel said, giving him a look. It was as Gabriel was attempting to catch him in a lie, or have him misstep his words. He was notorious for trying to trick guys into agreeing to things they didn’t want to agree to. 

“I’m not saying anything damning, alright? Get outta here,” Dean said, shooing Gabriel off with one had. He rolled his eyes at the departure; Gabriel danced his way back to his car, starting it and pulling Anna into a filthy kiss before backing out onto the street and roaring off. Dean was not impressed by the drama and theatrics. 

“What was that?” Cas asked plainly, seemingly as bewildered as he would get in face of Gabriel and his usual theatrics. He glanced at where Gabe’s car used to be, eyes squinting in confusion for a moment before he refocused on Dean. “

“That was Gabe,” Dean said, as if that was any sort of explanation for anything. “C’mon, let’s get your car,” Dean added, gesturing towards where Ash was wiping down the front windshield, making it look as good as it could considering it was a Studebaker. 

“It doesn’t look any different,” Cas commented, looking at the side of his car as if it were to somehow get better while it was at Dean’s garage. There was tuning a car up and then performing miracles; the latter would involve trading out Cas’ car for an entirely different model. 

“The changes are all on the inside,” Dean said, slapping the hood. He ignored the protest from Ash and his cleaning rag, tugging on the sleeve of Cas’ jacket to pull him over towards the hood. He lifted it up, smiling at the way that Ash had cleaned up everything on the inside, leaving it sparkling and almost new looking. He smiled at the work, proud of his staff. When he glanced at Cas, none of the same emotions were flicking across his face. 

“I still do not understand,” Cas said, looking skeptical at the engine. “That is supposed to work better than it did before?”

“New spark plugs, refilled oil, and some new battery connecters. On top of a general cleanup. Should run like a beauty,” Ash interrupted, slinging the towel over his shoulder. With a nod of dismissal from Dean, he headed off towards the next car he had to deal with. 

“Wanna hear her?” Dean asked, shutting the hood. 

“Sure. But it’s not a girl car. I do not intend on anthropomorphizing my car for some sort of ownership purposes,” Cas said, trailing behind Dean as he opened the driver’s side door. He seemed lost until Dean gestured for him to get inside the car. 

“Start it up then,” Dean said, pressing the keys into his hand. 

The car started up with a roar, simmering down to a hearty purr as it idled in the garage. It sounded so much better than it had before, as if it was actually functional compared to the absolute disaster it was before. When Ash had come to him earlier with the tune up information, Dean could hardly believe it had gotten that bad. He hadn’t pegged Cas as bad at taking care of cars, but it appeared as if Cas did not know a single thing about cars whatsoever. 

“That’s good?” Cas asked, turning his head in surprise. He listened to the engine for a few moments, his eyes turning warmer at the sound of the car. “That certainly sounds better.”

Dean ducked into the open window. “That’s how an engine should sound,” Dean said, glancing down at the speedometer. After a moment, he realized how close his face was to Cas’, how with a turn of his head he would be bumping noses. He pulled back slightly as he looked at Cas, almost desperate for a glance of his bright blue eyes. Seeing them up close was far different than from further away. The little crinkles at the corners of his eyes looked better up close where Dean could get a good look at them. 

“Thank you,” Cas said sincerely. He placed a hand over his heart, a more formal gesture for how touching this particular favor was for him. “I know Gabriel said this was a favor, but I’d like to repay you somehow,” Cas added, his hands falling still in his lap. 

“How about dinner? Maybe a home cooked meal?” Dean asked. He was only half serious, ready to play off the request at a moment's notice. He knew not to speculate about someone purely because the ugly truth would come back to bite him, but he had pegged Cas as someone who could cook. Maybe he couldn’t cook everything, but he was certain that he could provide some sort of home cooking. 

Not that Dean was in a particular need for it, but he found himself sick of the restaurant food that he, Gariel, and Benny often got. He lived alone, and Crowley did not have nearly as many family get togethers as he used to. Maybe Dean wanted a small piece of home, hoping that Cas could provide that. 

“Sure,” Cas agreed, eyes kind and warm. He stared at Dean for a moment before his eyes flicked away, as if aware of the other staff members in the garage. “I’ll notify you of a good time,” Cas said, nodding as if that affirmed plans. He offered a half wave before moving to pull the car out of the garage, leaving Dean behind. 


End file.
